Jessie could hardly bring herself to believe that he could have deserved it in _any_ way, but his submission was much less grievous and perplexing to her than his rebellion had been; and she received these few words--spoken rather gruffly, with his back turned to her--as a great proof of confidence, which indeed they were. 'If being very good makes people ready to be clergymen, I'm sure Cecil's getting ready as fast as he can,' she remarked to Frances. And though Frances was not so firmly convinced as her sister that Cecil's troubles had not been brought on him by his own fault, she answered readily, 'Yes, he has been so nice and pleasant since Sunday, and hasn't grumbled once about having to go to Mr. Bardsley's.' [Illustration] CHAPTER III. GOOD NEWS. MR. BARDSLEY'S was rather a large day school, in a town about two miles distant from Wilbourne. His terms were low, and he was not particular who the boys might be that came to him, so that they behaved themselves when they did come; but he taught really well, and was very conscientious, and therefore even very careful parents allowed their sons to go to him, convinced that there they would be at least well grounded in classics and mathematics, and would learn nothing amiss from the general tone of the school, though individual pupils in it might not be all that could be wished. [Illustration: 'GOOD-BYE, CECIL.' _See page 124._] Cecil was to start from home each day about half-past eight, and not to return till after the school broke up at five o'clock, except on the two half-holidays--Wednesday and Saturday. Eight miles' walking would have been too much for him; and it had been arranged that on the four other days he should dine with Mr. and Mrs. Bardsley, and his hours of work would be from nine to twelve and from two to five, with tasks to prepare at home in the evening. It seemed rather hard to begin this routine just in the first days of August, when the weather was so lovely, and the woods so enticing, and holiday cricket-matches going on in Wilbourne Park. Cecil's face was a little dismal at breakfast the first morning, and it was real self-government which kept him from grumbling when Jessie was helping him to put his schoolbooks together. Just as they were firmly strapped, his mother came to bid him 'good-bye for a few hours,' with a tender kiss and a few cheerful words, and after that his heart felt lighter, and he set out bravely; but he was just beginning to think what a long dull walk it was, and what a dusty road, and how delightful it would be if he might shy his books over the hedge and strike off across the meadows to join Percy, who had gone out fishing, when he heard steps behind him, and turning, saw the tall curate running along with rapid strides. His first impression was that something had happened at the Rectory since he started, and that Mr. Yorke was come to take him back; but he was soon undeceived.